


Christmas Tree

by lowlifetheory



Series: Christmas Collection [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowlifetheory/pseuds/lowlifetheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt from anon, Derek x Stiles, Christmas Tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompts on Tumblr for Christmas, and this is what I got. I got twenty requests in the end, each for different characters in different situations.

Derek woke early, warm in the cocoon of blankets, with Stiles wrapped around him, his own arm curled around Stiles's shoulders. He lay for a long time, listing off what he needed to do for the day. They had only been here a week, in this house, in their house, but in true Derek Hale style he wanted to do everything himself. Stiles refused to move in until there was a functioning kitchen, bathroom and bedroom, but literally that was all they had. 

Stiles shifted and rolled onto his side, facing away from Derek and Derek turned to stare at him. The duvet lay half across his back and he counted six moles on the skin he could see. He wanted to trace them with a finger and he was about to when Stiles's alarm rang out through the bedroom. Stiles groaned and reached for his cell phone, half sitting up to look at it, before his eyes widened and he tossed it onto the bed.

'Shit!' He cried practically falling out of bed. 

'What's wrong?' Derek yawned stretching his arms above his head watching his boyfriend flail around the sheet tangled on his ankle. One day he would find the energy to work out how Stiles gets himself into these situations but for now he was content to just watch. 

'Late, I'm so fucking late!' Stiles said rushing naked to the bathroom. Derek heard the shower start and Stiles reappeared with a green toothbrush sticking out of his mouth to hunt for boxer shorts, disregarding several pairs before choosing a tight black pair that Derek knew hugged his ass completely indecently.

Derek listened to Stiles get ready and decided he would work on Stiles's game room today, Stiles had been working hard lately, up to his eyes in books and whatever Google-Fu handed him regarding his assignments and Derek reckoned Stiles needed the break. When Stiles came out half-dressed Derek sat up. 'How come you're late, you always get up at this time on a Wednesday?'

'I said I'd meet my study group for coffee this morning before class. I forgot to change the time of my alarm.' Stiles muttered spending longer than normal on his hair, and changing his shirt again before he was happy. Derek's chest tightened at the lie that easily passed from Stiles's lips but he didn't question him on it. The shirt Stiles was wearing was one of Derek's favourites on him; Derek thought the black button down always added to his sex appeal and he was always careful not to damage it with his claws when they got too intimate.

Derek got out of bed and padded across the room, grabbing a pair of jeans and pulling them on, turning to leave the bedroom. 'I don't want breakfast.' Stiles called behind him as if he knew what Derek was doing. Derek took the stairs a few at a time and made his way to the kitchen anyway, he needed space to think and work out what was suddenly happening between them. December was a bad time to move into a house, his mind unhelpfully supplied, and he wished he had waited until summer like common sense had told him to do, but he wanted to be with Stiles sooner rather than later. 

Stiles brushed past him, grabbing his book bag and his tablet from the kitchen table stuffing it inside the bag. 'I don't know when I'll be home. I'll text you okay.' Stiles said. 

Derek nodded and turned to Stiles to say goodbye but Stiles was already on his way out the door, pulling a coat over his shoulders. Derek felt bereft, empty, because for the first time ever, Stiles hadn't given him a kiss goodbye, Stiles had lied to him about what he was doing, and Stiles had actually put an effort into what he was wearing to class despite the fact that he openly confessed he was late. 

Derek had never taken Stiles for a cheater, had never expected Stiles to make him feel this way, and expected Stiles to actually manipulate him like that. 

Derek snarled and swiped the miniature Christmas tree, their first Christmas tree that they'd spent two hours bickering over and decorating last night. To the floor, revelling in the smashing of the baubles and crashing of the lights. 

It was only when Derek at a loss for what else to do had started to paint the walls of the hallway, and ignore the games room completely, that he remembered Stiles telling him last week that Tuesday was his last day before the Christmas break, then college broke. Today was Wednesday.

'I think the whole point of this was to remove your clothes don't you Stiles?' Gavin said with a raised eyebrow. Stiles flushed and bit his lip, reaching up to undo another button at his throat. Gavin snorted. 'One button, really. Hook your thumb into the waistband of your jeans, that'll look hot.'

Stiles obeyed, already feeling sweat prickling the small of his back. He followed Gavin's instructions as Gavin told him what clothing to remove, what positions to take up to best maximise Stiles's body and Gavin's use of it. 

'Come on, pout for me.' Gavin said. Stiles shivered, feeling his nipples peaking to hard little buds but he obeyed pursing his lips and trying to pull his best bedroom eyes out. 'Thatta boy.' Gavin's voice was husky as he concentrated. 'So pretty, but you'll need to be harder than that.'

'Fuck you.' Stiles snapped. Gavin just threw his head back and laughed.

Derek was sitting in the corner of the living room, darkness surrounding him when the jeep pulled into the driveway. It was dark outside too, and the streetlamp cast a long glow through the window over the newly carpeted floor. Derek moved his bare foot an inch away from the stream of light into the safety of darkness. He'd been brooding all day, his heart breaking at the thought of not being good enough for Stiles. He hated that Stiles couldn't have told him earlier, couldn't have warned Derek that he needed more, needed something else. Derek knew he was pathetic, a bad boyfriend, Stiles deserved so much better and Derek would leave without a fuss, he just hoped nobody expected him to be happy about it.

He had long since abandoned the painting, images of Stiles with someone else flooding his mind. At first it was a guy, handsome, Derek pictured him tall, blond, a god like Thor who Stiles loved to drool over when they watched The Avengers, but then it changed to a red head. Perhaps it was Lydia herself, but Derek dismissed that idea. Lydia was happy with her husband Lorcan, and Lorcan was a possessive bastard when it came to her, so no, Derek didn't think it was Lydia. Perhaps a blond, small, neat with tits for him to grab and...What hurt the most wasn't that someone would see what Derek loved, see Stiles's body, hear his noises, it hurt that they would see the little things about Stiles that Derek kept private, kept to himself, like his sensitive nipples, how he chews his lips when he has to be quiet, how loud he is when it's just them. Derek hated that someone else would know this, and he didn't know how he could live the rest of his life and not imagine Stiles with someone else.

Derek had once again fucked up and lost someone he loved. It was all his fault. How could he fix it, how could he change his personality. He didn't suddenly become like this after the fire, Derek had always been quiet, brooding, and secretive. His mother used to tease him about it, trying to raise a smile out of him.

The front door opened and the smell of Stiles and food drifted to him, Chinese, honey chilli beef, Derek's favourite. Perhaps Stiles wanted to carry on an affair, wanted to manipulate Derek, but it would be almost impossible to manipulate a werewolf like that. 'Honey I'm home!' Stiles called out bypassing the living room where Derek sat safe in the shadow for now, and walking to the kitchen, flipping lights on as he went. 'What the hell?'

Derek hadn't been in the kitchen since this morning, hadn't bothered to tidy the carnage that was their Christmas tree. 

'Derek!' He called running upstairs. Derek listened to him going through the whole house, his heartbeat increasing to a frantic rate. He was muttering something about anniversaries he couldn't remember, or triggers to set Derek off, and Derek knew he was thinking about Derek's family, or the logs Stiles had bought last week for the fireplace. Derek curled his hands into fists, his claws digging into his hands as he stayed where he was, waiting until Stiles appeared in front of him like a mirage. 'Derek.' Stiles fell to his knees immediately, taking Derek's hands and looking down at them. 'You've hurt yourself.'

Derek looked away, looked at the wall; white, bright even in the darkness. He let Stiles touch him, let the feelings linger on his skin for just a little while longer. Stiles encouraged him to relax his hands, he let Stiles check him over until eventually Stiles was turning Derek's face to his and climbing forward into Derek's lap. 'Tell me what happened.'

Derek couldn’t hold back a dry chuckle and Stiles gaped at him. 'What?' 

'Where were you today?' Derek asked turning dark eyes on Stiles. Stiles faltered for a second, his mouth opening and closing. 

'Class?' It came out as a question, and Derek bristled at the guilt written all over Stiles's face. 

'Funny, I could have sworn you told me last week class broke up yesterday for you.' Derek said tilting his head to the side. Stiles swallowed and looked away for a second, his eyes roaming the area around them. 

'I had something to do.' Stiles said looking at Derek's chin. 

'What's his name, or hers I suppose?' Derek probed pushing Stiles backwards. He was gentle, standing them onto their feet, his hands touching as little of Stiles as he needed to.

'What?' Stiles asked.

'I deserve to know, I want to know, who it is that's going to make you happy, that's going to be the rest of your life.' Derek said with a frown. 

'Derek I don't know what you're talking about.' Stiles said.

'Christ Stiles you're cheating on me, you're lying to me, don't do this too, don't treat me like I'm a fucking retard, I deserve to know.' Derek snapped. He could smell an underlying scent of lube coming from Stiles, but it had been showered away thoroughly. He couldn't smell anyone else, but that didn't mean there wasn't somebody. Stiles took a step back, landing in the path of the street light. He was standing where Derek wanted to place the armchair large enough for two, where Derek had imagined them cuddling on Christmas Day as they opened gifts, ate food and watched soppy movies. Where Derek had thought about making love to Stiles, in their chair.

'I'm not cheating on you.' Stiles swallowed his eyes wide. 'You really think I'd do that?'

'You lied to me, you told me you were going to class, meeting friends, and you wore my favourite shirt.' Derek said feeling small and vulnerable. He hated that Stiles had this power over him. He hated that he hadn't just ran away when Stiles probed him, had stayed and talked about his feelings. 

'I'm not cheating on you, I love you.' Stiles said. It was no lie, Stiles wasn't cheating. 'I'm not even thinking about it, there's no one else, not now not ever.'

'You didn't kiss me goodbye.' Derek felt like putting himself through the wall when the words came out. He hadn't meant to let them, they were just...there.

'Doofus, have you seen what you look like in the mornings? Especially this morning. First off, you walk naked across our bedroom floor and just pull jeans on, no underwear, no shirt, no socks, just jeans. Then you stand there in that body that nobody has any right having by the way, just looking like you, and then you go to the kitchen with your bed hair and your stubble and your body and you just, how, okay, how the fuck do you expect me to be able to function like a normal human being when I have to leave that every morning?' Stiles waved a hand around Derek's body to emphasise the point. 

'I...' Derek looked down at himself and then back at Stiles. 'Then where were you?'

'I asked you what you wanted for Christmas...' Stiles flushed and bit his lip. Derek bobbed his head, encouraging Stiles to go on. 'I was organising that.'

'What?' Derek asked. Stiles stepped towards him, winding his arms around Derek's neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Derek frowned and tried to recall asking for something specific but the only conversation that came to mind was one morning in bed a few weeks previous when Derek said all he needed for Christmas was Stiles.

'Derek I love you, I really do, but you don't have a hope in hell of getting your hands on your Christmas gifts early.' Stiles said into Derek's neck. Derek ran his hands down Stiles's back and gripped his ass. 

'Too late.' He joked, hoping that their food wouldn't taste awful reheated.

Derek pulled Stiles into his lap and took the gift that was wrapped in red and gold paper from Stiles's fingers. He tore the paper away with flair, causing Stiles to laugh at him, and found what looked like a photo album. The first page was Stiles, standing as he had been that morning, when Derek had assumed...

Stiles was smiling, but each picture turned a little more risqué until Derek raised an eyebrow at a flushed Stiles wearing a Santa hat with his hand wrapped around his hard and leaking prick, a red butt plug showing through his splayed legs. 

'Merry Christmas.' Stiles whispered. Derek tossed the book away and grabbed Stiles around the waist, twisting until Stiles was pinned awkwardly beneath him on the chair.

'Merry Christmas indeed.' Derek murmured covering Stiles's lips with his own before kissing down the side of his neck. Stiles grinned up at the sprig of mistletoe he'd hung above the chair.


End file.
